


Miracle of Lights

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Holiday: xmas: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:32:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim learns a little something about sharing and equal opportunity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miracle of Lights

Disclaimers: These lovely boys belong Bilson/DeMeo, and I'm only borrowing them for fun. Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Notes: All the Christmas stories and talk about Blair's Jewishness led me to this write this little piece. I poured it out in one day last week, so please forgive any imperfections. Also, this is my first Sentinel story, though there are more (longer and more serious) in the works, so encouragement would be much appreciated. Thanks to my cosmic twin and beta reader Maria. 

Summary: Jim learns a little something about sharing and equal opportunity.

Warnings: Uhh, I guess I should warn against a tad bit of shmaltz. (sheesh, does that need a Yiddish warning? <eg>)

**Miracle of Lights**

by

C.L. Finn (12/23/97)

December 19, 1997

"Sandburg, you're late!" Jim Ellison growled to his young partner when he finally waltzed into the Major Crimes bullpen.

"Sorry Jim," Blair answered and flopped into the extra chair at Jim's desk, dropping his ever-present backpack onto the middle of Jim's paperwork. "I told you I had to meet with my dissertation advisor. It took longer than I'd hoped." 

If Jim hadn't been so irritated, he might have noticed his partner's grimace and he might have picked up on the fact that Blair was really hoping Jim would ask how it went. Instead Jim grabbed Blair's backpack and dropped it on the floor, then gathered up the file that had been spread out on his desk.

"Don't get comfortable, Chief," Jim said, as Blair began to peel his scarf and coat off. "I have to take this file down to Records and then we have to get over to the DA's office for the depositions on the Bradley case. Or did you forget about that?"

"No Jim," Blair answered slowly taking a deep breath and then responding to Jim like he was a child-- a particular tone that Jim hated. "I didn't forget. That's why I'm here now instead of at the U turning in final grades for my classes."

"Whatever," Jim mumbled and shut down his computer. "I'll be back in a minute. Don't wander off." 

With that Jim headed out of the squad room with his file only pausing for a second when he heard Blair whisper sarcastically, "Yes daddy."

*

Blair unbuttoned his coat and sat back in the chair with a sigh. They'd been sniping at each other like this for days now. Blair knew that it was probably natural, nothing serious, but it didn't make him feel any better about it. It was just that time of year. Jim had been run ragged at the station with the rise in crime that always seemed to spike just before Christmas. Blair hadn't been much help to him since he'd been enmeshed in finals and other end-of-semester craziness at Rainier. Add to all that the added pressure of a fairly new dimension in their relationship. 

Just a few months ago they had moved beyond friends and roommates and become lovers. Until recently it had been like an extended honeymoon-- they hadn't been able to get enough of each other. Then the holidays hit. The past three weeks, they'd seen very little of each other and when they were together they were more often than not too tired to do anything but fall into bed and sleep. Of course, that would have been preferable to this new state of being-- constant irritation.

Intellectually, Blair knew that a lot of people got this way around the holidays, but it didn't make him any less afraid of Jim's mood. Last year Jim had been caught up in the holiday spirit, putting up decorations and a tree in the loft. He'd even confessed to Blair that he hadn't put a tree up in years, but having Blair around and Stephen back in his life had made him want to celebrate Christmas. Naomi had even showed up at the last minute and the four of them enjoyed a real family dinner. Blair smiled at the memory.

But this year was different. Jim hadn't put any decorations up yet, Stephen was spending the holidays in Aspen with his new girlfriend, and Jim and Blair were lovers. The last of which should have made Jim happier this year, not more irritable. Blair rubbed his hands over his face, chasing away the insecurities. There was no use second guessing everything. The truth was that they'd both been busy and exhausted. That was enough to put anyone in a bad mood. 

He sat forward and pulled a little plastic dreidle out of his pocket. He'd spent part of the morning setting up for the Annual Children's Chanukah Party over at the Hillel Center, and he had to go back after the depositions to help with the party. Spinning the small toy on Jim's desk idly, Blair tried to figure out how he could cheer Jim up. Besides turning in his grades and helping with the party tonight, Blair was free for the semester. Maybe he would take initiative and decorate the loft himself, then help Jim get caught up on his paperwork so they could spend some quality time together before Naomi showed up for her visit. What Jim needed was a little pampering.

That decided, Blair felt much lighter. He reached for the phone to check his voice mail before Jim got back. The depositions were likely to take up the rest of the afternoon and he wouldn't get a chance later. He punched in his access code and listened through several messages from students who wanted to discuss their final before grades went in. *Too late* he thought. 

There was a message from his advisor saying he wanted to meet right after the New Year to discuss setting up a new deadline schedule for his dissertation. Another subject he didn't want to broach at the moment-- especially with Jim's current mood. The last message was from Naomi and destroyed the lightness that Blair had been able to achieve.

"Hi Honey," his mother's voice breezed, "I'm sorry I missed you at your office. I won't try you at the station since I know how uptight Jim can get about my interruptions." 

*Right mom... that never stopped you before. This means you don't want to actually speak to me.... which can only mean one thing.*

"Listen, I got a call from Gerry MacConnell yesterday. You remember him, right? Anyway, they're doing this special Winter Solstice celebration at Stone Henge and asked me to take part. How could I refuse such an opportunity, right?"

*That's the thing.*

"I knew you'd understand, sweetie. Besides, I know you and Jim would probably rather spend the holiday alone together... you know, things being different now. But please promise me sweetheart that you won't let him get you shot in some police nonsense over the holidays. Anyway, my flight for London's leaving right now. I'll talk to you soon. Give my love to Jim. And sweetie, have a happy Chanukah."

*Typical!* Blair hung up the phone and sat back in his chair. It was so typical of his mother to get some last-minute invitation and jet off somewhere, deciding what <she> thought Blair wanted. Of course, it had nothing to do with what he wanted-- it was simply an easy excuse for flaking out on him. *Damn.* He had been looking forward to having her in town for at least the first night of Chanukah. He'd wanted to introduce Jim to the tradition.

"Okay, Chief," Jim's voice broke Blair from his thoughts. "Let's get outta here."

"Sure Jim," Blair said, standing up and rebuttoning his coat. 

Jim grabbed his own coat and leaned over to grab Blair's backpack off the floor. He could tell Blair's mood had changed-- there was no missing this particular hang-dog expression. Jim sighed-- he hadn't meant to snap at the kid earlier. It wasn't Blair's fault that Jim was exhausted and irritable because they hadn't been together in days.

"Listen Blair," Jim said, stopping the younger man with a hand on his arm, "I'm really sorry for being such an ass lately. It's just been..."

"Don't worry about it, man," Blair stopped his explanation, taking his backpack. He gave Jim one of those soft smiles that Jim had only come to know since they became lovers-- the one that could put a lump in his throat from sheer joy. "We're both just exhausted and in need of some downtime."

"Boy, I musta done something right," Jim shook his head and slipped into his coat.

"Huh?" Blair asked, following Jim out of the squad room.

"To deserve you, Chief."

*

December 21, 1997

Jim mentally turned down the dials on his hearing, smell, and touch another notch and fought the hostility that seemed to be a natural side- effect of being trapped in a crowd. He really hated shopping this time of year. There were too many people pushing around frantically, too much noise caused by said shoppers and by the incessant Christmas Carols which were pumped into every store. This was the last place on earth Jim wanted to be at the moment. No, scratch that-- the mall would have been worse.

He'd done the mall the day before with Blair to pick up the last of the presents they needed to get for friends and family members. It had been miserable and sent his senses nearly into overload. Today he was on his own, shopping for the last gift-- the most important name on his list. Blair.

Actually, he'd already gotten several gifts for Blair, one of which the young man had received early. Jim bought Blair a new pair of glasses just before finals started to replace the ones he'd broken in Pinecrest. Since then Blair had walked around with them taped together because he couldn't afford to replace them. Jim didn't consider it a gift since he'd been the one to break them in the first place, but Blair had insisted they consider them an early Christmas present. 

That hadn't stopped Jim from buying other presents however. He'd bought a couple of pairs of silk thermal long-underwear and a pair of glove liners for the kid who was always cold during the winter. He'd also bought Blair a new mouse for his laptop after listening to him curse the thing out for weeks because the ball kept falling out after he'd cracked the case. They were all very useful and practical gifts. Which was why Jim was out here at the Waterfront Holiday Craft Fair, looking for another gift. 

The problem was that the gifts he'd gotten Blair were the same types of things he'd gotten Blair last year. There was nothing wrong with practical. *That's what I am,* thought Jim. But this year was different, things between them had changed, and Jim really wanted to find something more personal. He'd admit it-- more sentimental. And Blair's mood the last two days made Jim even more sure he wanted to get something special for his young lover.

Blair was depressed. He'd been trying to hide it and had denied it outright to Jim when he tried to talk to him. But it was very obvious to Jim that something was wrong. He already figured out that it was at least in part due to the fact that his mom had decided to run off to Europe instead of coming to visit. Jim had secretly been pleased when Blair told him about his mom's message, selfishly happy about getting Blair all to himself for the holidays. They'd had so little time together the last few weeks and he was looking forward to spending his first Christmas with the man he'd fallen in love with. But the look of disappointment on Blair's face was enough to make Jim feel immediately guilty for his selfishness.

Jim wandered through the booths, looking at the items made by local artisans and trying to figure out the puzzle that was Blair Sandburg. Naomi had done this to Blair on numerous occasions-- change her plans at the last minute and cancel on Blair-- and Blair had always shrugged it off. There was something else going on-- something that went beyond being disappointed by his mercurial mother. Jim hoped it wasn't something that he'd done. They'd been testy with each other for several days while trying to keep up with their hectic schedules and frustrated at not having any time for each other. But that situation seemed to have been taken care of. 

Blair was done with his work at the university and had spent the past two days right at Jim's side. They'd spent the day before finishing their shopping and then putting up and decorating a small tree in the loft. Blair made the best of the time, keeping up his constant chatter, but somehow his heart had not seemed really in it. Then they'd curled up on the couch and watched some movies, just enjoying each other's company again. 

Exhaustion catching up with both men, they'd fallen asleep on the couch putting off their love-making until morning. That didn't bother Jim at all-- he loved the sweet softness of Blair in the morning. Jim couldn't help the grin and shiver evoked by the memory. Unfortunately, by the time they'd gotten dressed and had breakfast, Blair had retreated back into his quiet melancholy.

Whatever it was, Jim was determined to get to the bottom of it so they could have a nice Christmas. Jim really wanted to make some memories this year that would reclaim the joy that was supposed to accompany the holiday-- that he'd known when he was a child. His memories of Christmas before his mother was gone were some of his most cherished, residing in a place that had been untouched by the cynicism of years in Special Forces and on the police force. Those were the kind of memories he wanted to make with Blair now-- and for years to come.

Jim sighed, amazed once again at how much Blair had changed his life and filled his heart with hopes for a future. He turned a corner to find a booth filled with items that leapt out at him. All of his thoughts of Christmas and Blair's mood came swirling back on him as he stood looking at the wide variety of handmade Menorahs.

"Idiot!" Jim scolded himself.

Sometimes, Jim thought he could be too self-centered for his own good. So caught up in his own memories and plans for Christmas, the fact that Blair was Jewish had never even crossed his mind. Oh, he knew that Blair had been helping out on some Chanukah party at Rainier. But it hadn't occurred to Jim that Blair might have traditions and memories of his own that he'd want to share. Suddenly, some of Blair's chatter from the day before came back to Jim. He had a habit of tuning Blair partially out when he was in what Jim thought of as his Professor mode. He loved to hear Blair talk, and would let the sound wash over him and soothe him, but few of the words really registered. Yesterday, as they wandered through the mall, Jim had done just that as Blair talked about the phenomenon of the Christmas season in American culture. He talked about the commercialism and the high stress, but he'd also talked about something else.

"You know, Jim," he'd said. "The whole holiday itself, despite how it pervades so much of our culture, is really extremely non-inclusive. For a society that is founded on secularism and prides itself on religious freedom, it's an incredible irony that once a year we are bombarded with Christian symbolism and ritual displays. It's very hard on non-Christian children. 

"Despite the fact that the holiday has moved so far from it's religious meaning and become a cultural and commercial holiday it still is at it's root a Christian holiday, leaving many children to believe that celebrations such as Chanukah and Kwanzaa are a consolation prize for being excluded. But the fact is that the Winter Solstice has always been..." And Blair had gone on to discuss the historical origins of winter festivals. 

Boy, for a detective and a Sentinel, Jim could be really clueless sometimes. Blair had been trying to tell him something, whether it was unconscious or not. If Jim had happy childhood memories of Christmas that he wanted to share with Blair, it was probably a sure bet that Blair had traditions that he wanted to share. Jim knew that Naomi hadn't been big on tradition and was not a practicing Jew, but Blair had told him on several occasions that he spent a lot of time with relatives when he was a child when Naomi would go off on some adventure that she couldn't drag Blair along on. Blair had even told him that some of his happiest memories, such as his Bar Mitzvah, were of times he'd lived with his more religious cousins.

Well, if it meant something to Blair, it meant something to Jim. Maybe this was something special he could give Blair-- old traditions and new memories.

~~~

Blair dropped his backpack onto Jim's desk and looked around the squad room. His partner was nowhere in sight. He shrugged and pulled his coat off, hanging it over the back of his chair. Jim had probably run down to forensics or to evidence lock-up. His agenda for today was paperwork, so he couldn't be far.

"Sandburg!" Simon bellowed from his office. With a sigh, Blair grabbed a little package from his coat pocket and went in to find out what he'd done this time.

"Hey Simon," Blair said, poking his head tentatively in the door. "What's up?"

"Come on in. Coffee?" Simon asked, turning around to pour himself a cup. At his nod, Simon poured one for Blair and handed it over as Blair perched on the edge of the conference table. "It's a holiday blend... tell me what you think?"

Blair raised an eyebrow and took a careful sip, then grimaced at the overbearing flavor of cinnamon and... peppermint, maybe? "Well, it's different. You didn't inflict this stuff on Jim did you?"

"Are you kidding?" Simon chuckled. "He wouldn't even come into my office because he said it smelled so bad this morning."

Blair laughed and set the coffee cup aside. "So where is the tough guy?" he asked. He always found it amusing that his tough cop and former Army Ranger could be such a baby about certain smells and tastes. Such was life with a Sentinel.

"He got called over to the Mayor's office. Some of the Mayor's staff's cars were broken into."

"Which, of course, qualifies as a Major Crime," Blair chuckled knowingly at Simon's dark look. "Want me to go and try to avert a political incident?" Blair asked standing up.

"No," Simon said, stopping him. "Jim said he'd handle it-- on his best behavior-- and that you should finish the paperwork he left on his desk." Simon couldn't help but grin at Sandburg's groan. "He left you a note."

"Of course, Simon-- paper is my world," Blair said sarcastically, his earlier humor gone. "Here," he said, laying a little bag with what looked like several pieces of gold coin on Simon's desk.

"What's this?" Simon asked, reaching for it. 

"Chanukah gelt," Blair answered. "They're chocolate coins. Someone left a bunch of them in my mailbox at the U this morning. I've already overdosed on them."

"Thanks," Simon said, already peeling the gold foil off of one. "And Sandburg," Simon called, stopping Blair at the door. "Happy Chanukah."

"Thanks, man," Blair said with a smile and headed back out to Jim's desk.

It didn't take much to identify the stack of paperwork on Jim's desk he'd left for Blair. It was a stack that would keep him busy the rest of the day. He found the note Jim left for him under the first folder in a sealed envelope. Blair had to smile at that-- Jim was paranoid that his fellow cops would discover their new relationship. Jim had explained to Blair that it was less that he was ashamed of loving Blair and more that he was terrified that they wouldn't let Blair work with him anymore. Blair was happy to go on letting them both believe that-- those were problems to be dealt with down the road.

<Hey Chief, Sorry about leaving you with all the paperwork. You know I'd rather do anything than deal with the Mayor and his emergencies.... even paperwork... but Simon insisted. The reports in this pile need to be finished and then filed. Maybe things will go smoothly and I'll be back to help. Either way, I promise to make it up to you tonight. Jim.>

Blair smiled at the promise and stuffed the note into the pocket of his jeans. The note at least softened the blow of the paperwork, but Blair still intended to make Jim pay for it in the best way possible.

*

Jim checked his watch and picked up the phone as he checked the boiling pot on the stove. He dialed his own number at the precinct and waited for the familiar voice to answer.

"Ellison's desk."

"Hey Chief, what're you wearing?" he asked in a deep, soft voice. It earned him a burst of laughter from the other end of the line.

"A sweater that my lover's really partial to," Blair answered softly. "Are you on your way back to the station?"

"Nope," Jim answered. "I'm done at the Mayor's, but I need to run some errands. Why don't I just meet you at home?"

"Man, I knew I'd end up doing this all myself," Blair groused. "I've got about fourty-five minutes worth left to do."

"Leave it, Chief," Jim said. "I'll finish it later. Why don't you just go home and start dinner? I'm starved. I'll be there in an hour or so."

"Yeah, sure Jim," Blair mumbled. "No problem. Later." With that he hung up the phone. 

Jim couldn't help but smile at the now-dead phone in his hand. His Guide could be so predictable sometimes. It made it all that much easier to surprise him. With a chuckle, Jim hung the phone up and went back to his preparations. He'd have to thank Simon for his part in the deception later. He already owed Jack Weiss over in Homicide for his help. 

When Jim decided he wanted to do something special for Blair for Chanukah, he'd found himself in unfamiliar territory. He knew next to nothing about the holiday other than the lighting of candles, and he didn't even know the significance of that. So after carefully choosing and spending more than he could really afford on Blair's gift, Jim tracked Weiss down. He'd known the man from his time in Vice and knew that he was a fairly observant Jew. Luckily he'd been all too happy to answer Jim's questions, even loaning him a book about Jewish holidays. Now he just had to wait for Blair and hope his instincts where his Guide were concerned were on the mark.

*

Blair trudged up the stairs to the loft grumbling that the elevator was out once again. He was tired and extremely irritated at his partner. Jim had always taken Blair's help for granted when it came to his senses and his work, but lately it seemed to have gotten worse. He'd left Blair in the precinct by himself all day to do paperwork that Blair didn't get paid for doing, then had blithely told Blair to have dinner ready for him when he got home. Blair was thrilled with being in love and being loved by Jim, but he had no intention of becoming the little woman. Maybe it was time he impressed that fact upon Jim.

Blair dug his keys out and opened the door while he mentally reviewed all the recipes he knew that included tofu. He tossed the keys to the side, missing the basket, and dropped his backpack just inside the door before looking up. When he did, he froze at the sight before him.

He'd expected a dark loft. What he found instead was a loft lit up with twinkle lights, Billy Holiday playing softly in the background, a romantic table setting, and several familiar and delicious smells. He turned towards the kitchen to find Jim leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, and a smug grin on his incredible face.

"Jim?" Blair asked, closing the door behind him. "Have I just walked into the Twilight Zone?"

"More like the Sandburg Zone," Jim quipped and walked over to him, pulling Blair's coat and scarf off, then hanging them up. "Welcome home, Chief," he said softly, leaning in for a soft kiss. "Happy Chanukah."

"Jim, am I smelling what I think?" Blair asked with a smile after overcoming some of his shock.

Jim nodded. "Tongue. But first things, first, Sherlock," he forestalled Blair's trip into the kitchen by pulling him into the living room. "Open this."

Blair took the large box from Jim and sat down on the couch. He couldn't contain the child-like grin that overtook his face as he tore into the wrapping paper decorated with little Menorahs and stars. He opened the box and peeled back several layers of tissue paper. He gasped at what he revealed. It was a Menorah-- but it was unlike any he'd seen before. Lifting it out, he examined the beautiful sculpture. Instead of the usual shape, the nine branches were shaped like people, each reaching up in celebration to carry a candle holder. It was obviously done by hand, sculpted in some kind of red clay. It was exquisite.

"Wow, Jim," Blair breathed, running his hand over each figure.

"I take it you like it?"

"Like it?" Blair set it down carefully on the table in front of him and launched himself into Jim's arms. "I love it!" He kissed Jim. "I love you!" Another kiss. "Do you have any idea how much this means to me?"

"No," Jim answered softly, wrapping Blair in his arms and nuzzling into his soft hair. "But I'd like to learn."

Blair pulled back, looking up at Jim in confusion.

"Chief, sometimes I forget that you know more about me than I do about you." He stopped Blair's protest with a finger on his mouth. "Listen, Blair. You've been studying me for the past two and a half years, you're a natural observer, and you're amazingly good at getting personal information out of me even when I don't want to give it. But you, my little enigma, are still very much a mystery to me. I only know bits and pieces of your past, and I'd like to know more.

"All of that aside, I do know that you're Jewish and that it's a tradition that means something to you. You are my family Blair and I'd like to be a part of that tradition just as much as I want to share things like Christmas with you."

"Oh my God," Blair said falling into Jim's chest, burying his face in the hard muscles there. "You are... I..."

"Blair Sandburg, speechless?" Jim chuckled. "Who'd have guessed?"

Blair pulled his face away from Jim's chest, looked over at the Menorah and then back at Jim's amused face. "Thank you," he said seriously, finding it the only way to say what he meant at the moment.

"You're welcome," Jim said with another kiss. "Now," he said, pulling away to stand up, "the sun's going down. Don't we need to light the Menorah?" He pulled Blair up off the couch and grabbed the little package of candles he'd bought with it. Blair grabbed the Menorah and carried it over to a table that Jim had moved in front of one of the big windows, catty-corner from the Christmas tree.

"You know Jim," Blair began, going into Professor mode, "this isn't actually called a Menorah. It's a Chanukiah... but most people confuse the two. A Menorah was the original seven-candle lamp that burned in the Temple. A Chanukiah has nine candles and is specifically for this holiday."

"Okay Rabbi," Jim interrupted him, fitting the candles into their holes. "As long as I got the right thing. Now you have to teach me what to do here. Do you know the blessing?" 

Blair looked up at Jim in surprise, to which Jim just shrugged and said, "I did some reading. But I don't know Hebrew, so that's up to you."

"Research, Jim?" Blair asked with a grin. A playful cuff to the side of his head turned him more serious. "Yeah, I know it... I think. It's been a while."

"Well, dazzle me, babe," Jim said, handing Blair the extra candle, known as the Shamash, and pulling a bic lighter out of his pocket.

Blair looked up at his Sentinel, partner, friend, lover, and found that it was indeed possible to fall even deeper in love with this man than he already had. It seemed to be an ever expanding universe all of it's own. He wondered if Jim had any idea how such a simple offering could touch Blair. He'd never known anyone who wanted so much to be a part of him and his life. It was frightening and breathtaking all at once.

Giving Jim a soft kiss, he let him light the candle he held. Blair spoke the words of the blessing in Hebrew as he lit the first night candle and replaced the Shamash, then turned to Jim and repeated the words in English.

"Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who sanctified us with his Commandments and commanded us to kindle the light of Chanukah. Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who performed miracles for our ancestors in those days at this season. Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who kept us alive and preserved us and enabled us to reach this season."

"Amen," said Jim softly and pulled Blair up against him. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man from behind and kissed him softly on his temple as they stood for several quiet moments watching the two flames burn together.

"I love you, Jim," Blair whispered, breaking the silence.

"Thank God for that," Jim muttered against Blair's neck and then straightened up. "So, can we eat now? I made latkes."

Blair chuckled at Jim's slight mispronunciation and followed him to the table. "How'd you learn how to do that?"

"Weiss over in Homicide gave me the recipe. I burned a couple of them, but I think all-in-all they came out pretty good," Jim said going into the kitchen to carry out the plate of potato pancakes and the tongue he'd cooked for Blair. The salad and wine were already on the table.

"It's perfect, Jim," Blair said, meaning much more than the latkes. "Just perfect."

"So," Jim said, sitting down and pouring some wine as Blair scooped up a huge dollop of sour cream on a latke and stuffed it into his mouth enthusiastically. "Tell me the story of Chanukah."

And Blair did just that. In his amazing way with storytelling, he made the revolt of the Jews against the Syrian Greek King, led by Judah the Maccabee, sound exciting. Jim enjoyed his food as he let his lover's voice flow over him, enticing him with the story of how after they had won and regained control over Judea and the Temple, the Jews had intended to resanctify the Temple but found only enough of the ritual oil to burn the Menorah for one day. But miraculously, the lamp burned for eight days, just long enough for more oil to be available. In memory of that miracle, Jews light candles each year for the eight days of Chanukah. Blair, being Blair, of course, embellished the story with historical facts and anthropological hypothesis, impressing Jim once again with just how much knowledge this lithe figure carried around in his head.

Later, the two men sat snuggled up together on the couch, finishing their wine and watching the snow that had begun to fall outside and the fire that warmed the loft inside.

"Thanks for all of this, Jim," Blair said quietly. "I really don't know how else to tell you how much this means to me."

"Chief, what's important to you is important to me." He kissed the soft curly hair and wrapped his arms tighter around the beloved body. "I think we both have a tendency to forget that sometimes. But you have to be willing to tell me what's important, too. Keep up your end of the bargain."

"I know," Blair said, with a sigh. "Wanna know what's important to me right this minute?"

"What?" Jim asked.

"Taking you upstairs and having you make it up to me for doing all that paperwork today. Man, that really sucked and you promised," Blair said with a grin, standing up and reaching out to Jim's hand.

"Oh what a sacrifice," Jim groaned and let Blair pull him up. 

"If you're really good, I'll teach you how to play spin-the-dreidle," Blair said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. 

"Now there's a class I could get into, Professor," Jim said with a laugh. He went to turn off the lights and blow out the candles, checking the lock on the front door. "Hey Chief?" he asked, following Blair up the steps.

"Yeah?"

"If I perform a miracle tonight, will you proclaim me a holiday?"

"Only if you can keep it up for eight days, tough guy," Blair laughed until he was hit with an irresistible force, picking him up and tossing him down onto the bed.

"Hey Chief?" Jim asked, as he paused in his work on Blair's buttons.

"Yeah?"

"Happy Chanukah, Blair."

"The first of many, man," Blair whispered in promise and prayer, "the first of many."

<The End>


End file.
